


there's a room where the light won't find you

by summerlovin



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: SO, i was born to be a serial killer anyway, lots of blood, real psycopathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 04:31:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6641536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerlovin/pseuds/summerlovin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh. He realizes it now. It all makes sense — they were both dead. Loki is dead. They were both equal, now.</p><p>(The AU wherein Loki wins.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	there's a room where the light won't find you

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I guess this is the part where I say hi. So hi, I guess? So anyway, this is like my second fic that I have ever shared, so constructive criticism would be awesome!
> 
> 2\. Title is from Everybody Wants To Rule The World by Tears For Fears. 
> 
> 3\. Talk to me on my Tumblr (stefanyahh) :DD

Once he sees the fallen buildings, the grey ash and the burning streets, Loki realized that he has won. Finally, he thinks. He has waited for this his whole life — he longed to rule something, his hands were itchy to get ahold extreme power ever since his birth. He turns around and inhales the sweet air of destruction.

He starts to walk from his vantage point: what was then Stark Tower, now The King's stronghold. (America is nothing but a wasteland now of his reign and soon after the whole world will fall before his knees.) He heads outside the room and saunters with a small smirk through the dim hall. Too bad nobody but him could appreciate the sun-lit walls but him.

Loki turns a sharp right and walks down a staircase, his hands behind his back. He licks his lips and clears his throat. Once he goes through the stairs, he proceeds to walk on another corridor, less bright than the one upstairs. Some light flicker on and off and Loki brushes off the giddy feeling of being a king.

By the end of the hall, he stops on the last door on the right. He takes a deep breath and brushes off the stray lock of hair on his face. After a few moments, he pushes the door open and marvels at the sight of the broken Avengers.

He sees first the Captain, once the ever glorious and patriotic Steve Rogers, laid sprawled on the floor with his eyes shut tight and skin so pale. Loki's mouth twitches when he thinks of a Jotun's body that can easily resemble the captain's snow-like skin. Steve's shield, broken in half, lies beside him as blood seeps out his abdomen. 

Loki averts his eyes and stares at the redheaded woman sitting down, barely breathing. He remembers this woman who questioned him inside a cell that they held him. Agent Romanoff, yes. Her eyes droop dangerously low but she raises her eyes to get a look of her enemy. 

Loki's stomach would have swooped with her murderous stare if he had any emotion left.

"I would have thought that by this hour, you were finished," he sneers to her and kneels on one knee, clearly mocking Romanoff's current state. 

Natasha forces a grim smile on her bleeding, aching face. "I was raised to be tough, you know," she spits on his face. Loki recoils in disgust and wipes the saliva from his face. "What? Little prince can't handle a bit of spunk?"

Loki grabs Natasha by her neck and stands up, raising her feet above the cold ground. Natasha gasps, trying to break free, but with her broken body and broken spirit she is rendered helpless. "If I break your neck, Romanoff? Would that please you?"

"Better than looking at your face." 

He throws her a few feet away from his current position. Oh, how he is pleased to see the Avengers, groaning in pain and pleading for mercy beneath him. Natasha coughs on her blood and raises a wobbly arm to Loki. "I have never been one on mercy, Romanoff. Apologies," Loki says as he makes way to her. Natasha tries to scurry away from the god, but her injured legs and bleeding torso betray her. Loki slams his feet on Natasha's forehead with a grin. "I enjoy this, truly. I was mistaken — I am not sorry for all your _misery_!" Loki kicks Natasha on her abdomen and she howls in pain.

Loki grabs her hair with his right hand and grins at her. "Why don't you join me? You and I, we could work together," his other hand makes way to her bust. Loki's pointer traces Romanoff's cleavage. "In more ways than one. You might want to know that too."

"Kill me." Romanoff pleads with tears pooling in her eyes. For one second, Loki recognized that look — he remembered when he knew how Odin once lied to him, and he knew that Romanoff now reflected who he was then: hopeless, weak, so tired. But those are weaknesses, and King Loki cannot have any weakness. His days of succumbing to his weaknesses are over. "Kill me, kill me! Kill me you fucking bastard! Kill me, kill me, kill me! _Kill me._ "

"Naw," Loki coos and bats his eyelashes. "That ruins all the fun, don't you think?" He slaps her and leaves her sprawled on the floor, sobbing and heaving and regretting. 

He licks his lips and stares at the sight before him; Tony Stark, pinned on the wall, bits and pieces of his skin hanging from his tattered flesh. His heart, literally broken in half, is on the floor beside a stack of velvet skin.

Bruce Banner, his head beside his body on the floor. A pipe leaks and droplets fall on his severed head, into his open and bloodshot eyes. His wrists are handcuffed and his fingers are mutilated. His chest is pierced with seventeen holes, all directed to his heart. Up until this point, Loki cannot understand how he managed to tire the Hulk and severe Banner himself.

Clint Barton with his hands chopped off, both of it covering his face which is flayed completely. The rope tied on his open neck is covered in hot, sticky blood. His body is sown in the middle from his lower body, and beside his body is a bucket of his blood.

Lastly, he chuckles at the sight of his dear brother, his ever loving, ever supporting, ever golden, ever liven Thor. Thor, who was once the perfect picture of the perfect crown prince, now with a face crushed by a sledgehammer. His chest is open and his heart is stuffed into his mouth. The lungs that once basked in the air of victory is now crushed into pieces and glued to his hair. His arms were completely chopped off, and his feet were crushed into brittle pieces as well.

"Natasha?" Loki asks with a sly grin. The woman sobs heavily despite Loki's clear taunting. "Have you enjoyed your view? Have you made most of a painting that I have made, your artist, that depicts the picture of those who dare defy me?"

The blue of Loki's eyes disappear as he turns around to see Natasha, whose eyes are struggling to put up the fire. His heart aches, his brain finally takes in his surroundings and he has realized what he has done. 

"I've seen a picture where you lose, Loki," Natasha all but trembles.

Loki — the real _Loki_ — did not hope for this, when he had talked to The Other. He hoped of a kingdom finally worthy of his father's pride, a son whose reign can be lead with wit and magic that defies all brawn, a brother who would finally see him as a hero, not simply his younger brother.

Oh. He realizes it now. It all makes sense — they were both dead. Loki is dead. They were both equal, now.

He was about to reach out when The Other takes over. He does have a specialty, The Other: he makes you think that you can do something, be worth of something, but in the end, he takes all your power away and use everything that you have for his benefit.

Loki did not want fallen buildings, grey ash and burning streets. He wanted to be a son, a brother, nothing of a monster that Thor grew to hate. He wanted to finally be seen in his glory, not in the shadow Odin forced him into.

Natasha's eyes clearly widen when she sees a sickeningly blue seeping on Loki's eyes. "Monster," she points an accusatory finger. "Monster!"

Loki laughs and heads outside, waving a hand. "I'll make you wait, Romanoff!" He stops by the door for a second. "You'll be with your friends soon."

Thus, their stories end when Loki slams the door shut, away from the world he lived past through.


End file.
